Something Wicked
by We Are Nowhere And It's Now
Summary: The beginning of what will eventually be ten oneshots, all centered around Yami no Bakura and with a different pairing each time. Writing challenge for a Livejournal Community.
1. Look To The Sky

By late afternoon, it had grown fairly dark in Kaiba Seto's bedroom. Winter had arrived early in Domino this year, it seemed. A nocturnal creature by nature, Seto's companion had been completely unbothered by the rapidly darkening sky, opting to sprawl across the bed and stare wistfully out of the bay window, ivory hair illuminated in the twilight. He smirked to himself. It really was a romantic evening; perhaps there would be time for some... activities, later.

Seto, however, was considerably less pleased by the early nights and shorter business hours that he was forced to endure. The meetings scheduled for late afternoon had been shifted to another day, simply because it was dark outside. Ridiculous. Time was a valuable resource, certainly not one to be wasted on the sky - he'd always wondered how Bakura could spend so much time staring at it, inanimate; as if something all the way up there interested him. Work came first, whatever his fellow CEOs believed that the changing of the seasons dictated. Time was a constant pressure; if those fools wasted any more of his, they would pay dearly for it. Especially as he had a very demanding (and often mischievous) thief leeching every spare second of his time. It certainly wasn't helping matters. He tapped idly at the keys on his laptop, irked at having his day ruined.

Bakura had taken to spending almost every day, except from the rare occasions that he would go out stealing - or 'working', as he put it - watching Seto typing frantically at his desk. Over days and weeks, Seto often forgot about his presence, which was not something Bakura took kindly to. He'd make every attempt to distract Seto, but the CEO was accustomed to working with background noise, so these attempts went unheeded. Seto had once compared Bakura, aloud, to a puppy. A desperately clingy puppy, at that. Bakura had stalked out, and hadn't returned for the entire weekend, leaving a very bored Seto in his wake. That had been a lesson well learned.

However irritating life with the thief could be, Seto was forced to admit that there was some value in the comic relief provided by walking downstairs for coffee, and ending up face-to-face with an enraged thief, flailing around his kitchen with a toaster attached to a butcher knife. When he'd asked about it, Bakura had growled and thrown it at the wall, informing Seto that it 'simply would not switch on". Seto had nearly laughed out loud. It was unlikely that Bakura ever would come to terms with modern technology, but Seto found his struggles – dare he admit it – almost endearing. Not to mention hilariously funny to watch but Seto would be damned if he was caught laughing in his own kitchen.

"What are you doing, _Seto?_" A harsh voice purred from behind him, and Seto realised that he hadn't touched his laptop in almost twenty minutes. He grunted, but didn't turn around.

Bakura was barely audible as he approached, and would have made Seto jump if he hadn't been anticipating this. Yet he still shivered as Bakura's breath ghosted across the nape of his neck. "Must you sneak up on me like that? You know I hate it." Somehow, he was able to keep his voice steady.

Bakura smirked, hand flicking across the desk. "Of course." The laptop slammed violently shut, and he offered no other reply. Skilled fingers danced in Seto's hair, drawing him over to the window, coaxing him to follow. "If you're not too busy.." Seto followed robotically, as if by some magnetic force. He abandoned all hope of continuing his brooding session – such things were impossible with Bakura around.

The thief leaned backwards as he allowed Seto to press him against the window, grinning devilishly as his lips attached themselves to Seto's neck, whispering against his skin.

"_Now, Kaiba Seto, I will show you the sky."_


	2. Disoriented

Second 10whores fic. It's a rewrite of episode 13, during Yami no Yuugi's first enounter with Bakura. The pairing this time is Yami no Yuugi/Yami no Bakura. Tell me what you think

* * *

"Who are you?" Yami no Yuugi demands – expression even, voice unwavering – no sign of weakness visible. Distinctly he remembers a face from the past, and a shock of violently white hair; though even from such close proximity, he cannot name this demon. The darkness is stifling around him, though his resolve does not falter even slightly. "Answer me!"

The boy across from him smirks, shadows dancing in his eyes. "I am a thief and a stealer of souls." Yami does not react to this; instead searching his mind desperately for Yuugi, but there is no response to his alarmed call of _aibou, where are you?_

"He has been sealed by the shadows." Bakura traces a pointed, elegant finger across the edge of a card, still smirking deviously. The other's distress is an amusement to him. A sharp glare from the former Pharaoh does nothing to lessen his glee. The shadows shift among the lifeless bodies of Yuugi and his friends, away from the thief, allowing Yami a better view. "Tell me, Pharaoh; do you remember me now?"

Yami wonders at this. _What game is the thief playing? _Though he answers, puzzled at being named Pharaoh. "No, I do not." It is a simple confession, one that causes Bakura's eyes to widen and the thief to bare his teeth maniacally, chuckling.

"Ah, of course." He pauses for a brief moment, lost in thought, before his enigmatic expression returns. He places a card on the field languidly. Face down, a monster card in defense mode. "Suffice to say, you and I played a sort of… _game_, many millennia ago." The Pharaoh losing his memory had not been an anticipated part of the plan he'd prepared, though that hardly mattered.

Yami no Yuugi places a card face down, mirroring Bakura's move. "I have played many shadow games in my lifetime, thief." His voice is haughty, proud. He sees no reason to make this encounter an exception; there was always a formula to it: hurt something Yami protected – Yuugi, in this case – and pay with defeat. A fair exchange. Forgotten shadow game or no, the thief would _lose._

"Pharaoh." Bakura's voice is deliberately teasing, harsh as he whispers in Egyptian. Yami does not register the change in language, distracted by the locking of their eyes. Dull, muted blue against crimson; a battle already raging in their heads. Bakura's gaze is half-lidded, lazy. "This is an entirely different kind of game."

A thrust of shadows, and Yami is knocked backwards abruptly. It occurs to him vaguely that the thief – surprisingly strong for such a delicate, pale boy – is holding his hands above his head, effectively pinning him. Survival instincts kick in, warning him to squirm, to push the thief off and banish him for _daring _to touch Yami – and he would, he supposes, if the world would stop spinning long enough. If he wasn't so damn _disoriented. _The thief has stopped laughing, stopped smirking and is now straddling him, an unrecognisable expression held on his face.

"Unhand me, thief." Yami's voice – for the first time since he can remember – has lost its authority. He is shaking, though not as afraid as perhaps he should be.

Bakura continues his actions as if the Pharaoh hasn't spoken. "History has a tendency to repeat itself, though I don't expect you'd remember that either." He laughs, though it is not such a sinister sound. He tosses his ivory locks enigmatically and lowers his face to Yami's, purring harshly. "Allow me to enlighten you."

Yami no Yuugi says nothing, all thoughts of his aibou abandoned as he struggles with the thief. Violently, lips crush together and, as suddenly as this game began, he _remembers. _The familiar scent of musk reaches his nose, along with a vision in striking red and a smirk that could unsettle even the most steady of his guardians.

"Bakura…" He murmurs, between heated kisses, fighting for dominance and making no complaint as he loses. "I remember."

"And rightly so." Bakura is solemn now, speaking simply and in Japanese. "We will meet again, _my king_._" _Silently, he disappears into the shadows, leaving a shell-shocked Yami with a group of friends, slowly stirring in the twilight.


End file.
